


falling

by carysias



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Angst, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Second Person, Past Relationship(s), Relationship Problems, brief mentions of flushed solfef, erifef has a dysfunctional moiraillegiance change my mind, trust me i love erisol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:17:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carysias/pseuds/carysias
Summary: it’s way easier to fall out of something than to fall into it. you’ve fallen out of love, out of hope, and maybe it’s time you fall out of life. but you won’t. you're meant to be great, and you won’t ever let yourself die.





	falling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Pity is to Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21201419) by [auspicious_encounters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auspicious_encounters/pseuds/auspicious_encounters). 

> this started as a ventfic but a friend of mine wrote an erisol fic (inspiration in link) and i was inspired to finish this  
just troll kids growin up on alternia and falling out of love, please don't feel bad for them

“The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference; the opposite of feeling can only be the absence of feeling.” —Elie Wiesel

* * *

At one point in life, you thought you have yourself figured out. You thought you were going to go forth with all your aspirations in mind, complete the quadrants that your society demands of you, and become the historical figure you so aspired to—you ancestor, Orphaner Dualscar. Hell, you even dedicated your FLARP character to him. Your friend Karkat has dismissed your dreams and aspirations as the insecure struggles of a pathetic kid, but you were too prideful to acknowledge his comment. You think he’s just jealous, that sometimes they just don't get it, lowbloods doesn’t realize how important their heritage is.

And maybe they won’t, but that might even be a good thing. Recently you’ve began to reconsider everything you’ve known, everything you’ve treasured and valued. You don’t like this change, but it came nonetheless.

You miss the times when you would nest yourself in the pouch of Skyhorse as he takes you out on a tour in the ocean. You miss playing with sticks and roleplaying as Troll Merlin. You miss trying on a series of oddly shaped blue hats with badly-cut out glittery stars glued onto the side. Those were the easier days. You miss the time when you thought magic is real, when you still had some semblance of hope for yourself left.

You hate your once stupid guileless innocence, but you miss it. You miss it so much.

You miss your unrealistic pointless dreams, and you keep thinking about what Karkat said, and decided that he’s figured it out all along. He has figured it out, and you’re simply left in the dust of aspirations of which you will never live up to.

Since then, you’ve ran your ego into the dirt. Yes, you still tried your best to keep up your landdweller exterminating genius conqueror facade—but you think no one’s buying it anymore. It’s simply plain fact that your actions would speak for themselves, and the truth is you never wanted to harm anything. It was all talk, stupid talk to gain stupid approval from stupid people that you will never speak to again. Maybe it’s for the best.

You think you’ve settled down, maybe for a short while, maybe forever. You’ve finally decided to drop your stupid facade that no one was buying anyway.

You wish magic was real.

* * *

A while ago you’ve decided to cut the bullshit and make it official with your goldblood kismesis. You want to make Vriska jealous with rage when she hears about your new fling. Or maybe you’re just an idiot who’s simply proving her point that everything is down to revenge, and when she hears she would laugh at you. You think it’s pointless and idiotic of you to even think about her.

Sure, you might have a dysfunctional moirallegiance falling apart at the seams with the very heiress herself, but you want to survive. You are the great future-to-be prince of Alternia and galactic conqueror, descendant of Orphaner Dualscar, you will not die. You refuse to ever die.

Maybe Sollux would keep you from dying. You are so convinced that he would, so worried about your slim prospects on this outrageously violent planet.

No, you are not supposed to think that way. You are not supposed to believe that there’s a possibility for you to not have a future. You are destined for great things, you are meant to—

Fuck it.

You figured it’s best for you to be both a literal and metaphorical destroyer of hope. You went back into your crashed ship under the sea, your ridiculously flamboyant violet cape trailing after you. The edges of the cape is wearing out, so you toss it.

You float up to your respiteblock, locate your useless wands stocked up in a fridge, and pushes the thing out of the window. Down the chasm. Gone.

You were never going to be a great wizard anyway, no matter how much you wanted to. It was your destiny to stick in this meaningless moirallegiance where you’re well aware the heiress is using your pathetic wish for validation to help her feed her lusus.

You are Eridan Ampora, destroyer of hope.

Soon enough you would show up at Sollux’s hive, pathetic and dripping wet. You would see him passed out in a puddle of mind honey, wait for him to wake up, and let him blast you half to death with his psionics. You don’t even bother dodging it, you can take it, and you think you deserve it anyway. He grabs you by your scarf and snarls into your face, and you let him.

You’re too tired to keep up your royalty facade right now, at least with him. You’re banking on him not abandoning you for failing his expectations as a kismesis.

Fortunately, you think he hates you enough—or maybe pities you enough? To maintain the relationship you have going. You have no idea what he’s up to. Sollux has always been borderline incomprehensible to you, and you hate him for it. You want to understand what he really is for once.

You want to know if his statements of self loathing and proclaims of genius talent are as genuine as your own. You want to know if he truly loathed himself that much, as he says, that he would punish himself by spending time with you. You want to know if he’s just so nonchalantly cool or if it’s a carefully maintained facade, just like your own.

You want to see him in a vulnerable state, but you can’t. He hasn't got over the trust barrier as quick as you did, and you suspect that just proves your theory. You are bad at socializing, and even worse at reading others. You hope at least you’re able to nail down your kismesis.

In fact, you figured by calling him your kismesis is just a matter of terminology at this point. The emotions between you and him have been flipping red and black and back again violently and aggressively, almost as if they are in a war of dominance itself. You find it all stupidly complicated, and it tires you out. You want a stable relationship.

Vriska would laugh at you for your pathetic drama and failure to figure out your quads, and she would be right. As much as you hate to admit it, she’s right about a lot of things.

You sit down besides him. There’s still traces of honey on his face and skin, and you help him wipe it off. He slips you a stupid giggling smile, baring his protruding fangs, and your pusher lurches. Your fins flaps inadvertently. Maybe you don’t have to figure out your feelings.

Maybe just being with him is enough.

* * *

Lately you’ve been entertaining the idea that maybe, just maybe, you’re not destined to be great as you thought you would.

If your friends were to ask you if it’s _ his _ fault, they would be right. It always comes back to this, it always comes back to Sollux and every pan-numbingly _ apathetic _ interaction between you. There’s no passion between the two of you anymore. In fact, it’s been that way for a couple perigees now.

Sharing a hive with him has become a routinely chore, interacting with him more of fulfilling a social quota rather than something out of passion. It was only last sweep that you would hate-snog each other aggressively and slip into an embarrassingly red aftercare session. He would hold you, treasure you, and go back to calling you a fishdick the next day. Now it’s simply lukewarm pleasantries, and it’s always lukewarm pleasantries, and you fucking hate it.

You don’t understand; you don’t understand why quadrants are so needlessly complicated. You’ve been flipping black and red and back again with Sollux for sweeps now, and you’ve both grown out of it. It terrifies you to think that there’s nothing left between you and Sollux, but it’s the ugly truth. Maybe you were stupid for thinking it would last in the first place.

You are completely and utterly aware that you are both only clinging onto each other like parasites, hoping to keep this pathetic excuse of a relationship alive until the drones come knocking, and then sever ties and never talk to each other again. Maybe you’ll force him into being the Empress’s helmsbait, but oddly you don’t want to. Even with the lack of feelings, you don’t want to.

Your fellow seadwellers mock you for being a disgrace, such a fall from you previous high position as someone who looks up to his ancestor and aspiring to be great. They laugh at you for having a concupiscent quad with a lowblood. You take out your rifle, and they scatter.

Everything really is just a matter of power. And yet, despite all the power and control you exercise over this vast planet, Sollux never seemed to care.

You never wanted this, you can’t believe you’re reducing yourself to this position. You figured if you could just hold on to this meaningless and mutually exhausting relationship for maybe one more day, things will change. You know it’s not your fault, and it’s not his either. There really isn’t anything to blame in your case—it just happened to be an unfortunate event, as your ex-kismesis Vriska would say.

And where is she now? You don’t know, and you couldn’t care enough to figure it out. She’s none of your concern now. She has abused and used you until you were left with nothing, and with what little you had left you stumbled here.

The only real concern you have as of now is how to anchor yourself to this guy, this lowblood psionic sitting on the couch flashing red and blue, because tepid affection is always better than none.

Maybe this “kismessitude that would make the planet jealous” is coming to an end too, but you don’t want it to. Not now. Not ever.

Maybe you just don’t want _ Sollux _ to leave, have you thought about that? Maybe you don’t want this fucking mustardblood to leave, no matter what kind of blow it would deal to your dignity. Maybe it’s because of _ him _ and not the quadrant itself. For a millisecond, you were ready to drop onto your knees, beg for him to stay, and ask if he pities you—or even hates you. Any form of strong emotion would do.

Because fuck, you need it.

You need validation like you need air and water.

* * *

Recently you’ve been thinking about magic again. You wish you kept the wands you threw away sweeps ago, because even though it’s not real, they were a source of comfort for you for so long. They made you have a sliver of hope that maybe you’ll become what you aspired to be.

You asked your landdwelling friend Kanaya to make you a new cape and wand, and she did it just to shut you up. You don’t blame her; you are well aware that your personality has simply been spiraling downhill with the passage of every single day, and it’s a miracle that Sollux and Feferi still stuck with you. You heard that they’ve decided to enter a matespritship, without your knowledge at all. You convince yourself that you don’t mind.

Truth to be told, you care about way too many things. Maybe way too much for a healthy troll at 9 sweeps old.

Yeah, you’re 9 now. It almost seems like time has been passing way too quickly for your liking. You try on the new cape and want Kanaya made for you, and standing in front of the mirror you feel like you were 6 again. You smile a little at your childish fantasy.

Wait, when was the last time you’ve smiled?

You couldn’t remember any of that inconsequential garbage. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what has happened to you over all those sweeps.

Life is stupid. Growing up is stupid. Nothing is like what you thought out to be, and now you congratulate your 6-sweeps-old self for figuring it out all along.

_ It’s hard. Being a kid and growing up. It’s hard and nobody understands. _

Nobody understands, not even yourself. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the reprehensible situations you constantly throw yourself into.

You had a dream where Sollux finally decided to leave you. It should be fine, you were already past the age where you have to worry about drones. You are going to join the great fleet in a matter of perigees. So why would you even care?

In your dream you tried to kill him, you tried to strangle him as he left you on the ground, in an almost groveling position unfit for your royal status. You grabbed his horns and pressed his face against the wall of his hive, your claws tightened around his throat, and the world fell away around you.

There are tear tracks on your face as you wake up, sick and groggy, sopor slime plastered on your face. You hate the feeling of slime against your skin, but it can’t be helped. You feel excessively disgusting.

You want to talk to Sollux again, or maybe Feferi, but there is something parasitic grabbing onto the back of your mind and telling you that you shouldn’t be wasting their time with your unnecessary emotions. You desperately need some sort of positive affirmation in your life, any at all. But you know you’re never going to get it.

You let yourself sink back into the slime, quietly dozing off again. There is not a single creature within the radius of your shipwreck.

Maybe some trolls are just meant to be alone. Maybe you’re one of them. And maybe, maybe one day you’ll finally accept it.

**Author's Note:**

> bgm - meltdown (iroha/sasaki - lollia)


End file.
